


Babe, You Look So Cool

by grantarie



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables (TV 2018), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Lawyer, M/M, Multi, Musicians, Recreational Drug Use, based off The 1975
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23721481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantarie/pseuds/grantarie
Summary: 9 years ago, Enjolras was forced to leave behind his band and his boyfriend.------Courfeyrac stared in shock between the band and Enjolras. Behind the leader, Les Amis had turned to face them too. But Enjolras didn’t care - there was only one person he was focused on.“R…” He breathed out, stepping forward slightly with his hand raised as if asking for permission.
Relationships: Combeferre/Éponine Thénardier, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

Enjolras was sorting papers in the back room of the Musain when he heard Courfeyrac’s excited voice approaching. Enjolras frowned slightly, glancing down at his watch. Courf normally got to the meeting early to help Enjolras set up, but today he was arriving as the meeting was due to start.

“I just still can’t believe this… you need to meet my friend! I think he loves you guys, he’s always listening to your music but he refuses to admit he likes you.” Enjolras wasn’t focusing on what Courfeyrac was saying, choosing to focus on the nervous tone of his voice as he babbled away. “I think it might be because your songs are doom and gloom, but my friend is the most optimistic person you could meet!”

“I don’t think he will like us very much in person then, we are tragically emo.” The voice shocked Enjolras to the core, as his hands dropped the papers he had been holding. It couldn’t be…

Five people tumbled into the room, laughing quietly but Enjolras was busy sweeping the group for the familiar grey eyes. Courf was smiling happily, but the four newcomers froze.

“Enjolras! Look who I bumped into!” Courfeyrac proclaim, grinning widely. A tense silence settled into the room.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Floreal snarled, her blue eyes locking onto Enjolras. Enjolras didn’t pay attention to her, instead focusing all of his attention on the man next to Courfeyrac.

Grantaire’s mouth had fallen open slightly in disbelief as he gaped at the blonde, his hand dropping the cigarette he had been holding.

Beside him, Courfeyrac stared in shock between the band and Enjolras. Behind the leader, Les Amis had turned to face them to. But Enjolras didn’t care - there was only one person he was focused on.

“R…” He breathed out, stepping forward slightly with his hand raised as if asking for permission.

“Don’t even think about it, Enjolras!” Floreal was in front of him almost immediately, pushing him backwards. “You don’t say anything to him, you don’t go near him, and you shouldn’t even be looking at him!” Floreal had always been fiercely protective, and her attitude didn’t surprise Enjolras at all, as he shifted his gaze to her. She looked different – Enjolras had seen various pictures of them in the past 9 years, but seeing them in person again allowed him to see how much the time had changed them. She looked good – they all did.

Especially Grantaire.

A dainty hand wrapped around Floreal’s wrist. “Don’t, he’s not worth it.” Jehan’s calm voice filled the silence, and sent shivers through Enjolras’ body.

“Right, someone needs to explain what’s going on because I am so confused right now.” Bossuet proclaimed, breaking the tension slightly. “Enjolras?”

“Yes Enjolras,” Bahorel sneered. “Care to explain?” 

“I…” Enjolras, who made his living from his speeches, couldn’t find his words. He shook his head. Grantaire was staring down at him, pain shining in his eyes. Bahorel’s hand was clasped on his shoulder, anchoring him. “I… What are you doing here?” He finally got out. 

Grantaire flinched, but Floreal answered for him. “We live here, jackass.” Combeferre moved to stand behind Enjolras, his hand gently grabbing Enjolras’. Grantaire’s eyes followed the movement.

“You were touring.” Enjolras stated.

“Yeah, well… All good things end eventually.” Enjolras exhaled, as if he had been struck in the stomach when he heard Grantaire speak, the brunette had now dropped his gaze to the floor. 

Courfeyrac had also moved to stand next to the blonde. “Enjolras, what’s going on? You know them?” He asked, quietly.

“We grew up together, we formed this band together, we did everything together until he walked away from us without a second thought.” Grantaire snapped, glaring up at them – his face contorted in anger. “It’s been 9 fucking years Enj!”  
“Grantaire I swear it wasn’t like that!” Enjolras stepped forward again, but Grantaire stepped back. “Please, my parents-“

“You know what? I don’t want to hear it. Save your fucking apologies.” Grantaire ran his hand through his hair, pulling some loose from the bun on top of his head. He turned to Courfeyrac. “It was nice to meet you… Shame you’re friends with the biggest asshole on the planet.” 

With that statement, Grantaire turned and walked out of the room. His band mates hesitated for a few seconds before following him out.

Jehan paused by the entry, and turned to face Enjolras. “We missed you, you know? Despite what you did.” He shrugged, and with that, Les Amis were left alone. 

Enjolras exhaled shakily, and his knees gave out under him. Combeferre was there in seconds, placing a supportive arm under his arms and hoisting him to a chair. 

“Enj…” Ferre didn’t know what to say, looking to Courf and Feuilly for help. Les Amis had all crowded round now, curious about what had just happened. 

“I guess this is a really bad time to tell you I have tickets to their concert tomorrow?” Courf grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck.

XXX

Grantaire’s hands shook as he tried to light his cigarette.

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing Enjolras again. It had been 9 years since he had walked out of their lives, and while R had been able to manage the pain from a distance, seeing his ex in person bought the pain flooding back.

Grantaire’s chest felt like it had been ripped open, and he was struggling to breathe. 

“Oh shit, R!” Bahorel cursed. “Jehan, Flo!” Jehan stuck his head out from the kitchen, a bottle of wine in his hands. He cursed softly when he saw Grantaire and rushed over.

“R, sit down.” He instructed calmly, his hands guiding the brunette. “Good, now put your head between your knees… Perfect, now listen to me counting – breathe in time with me.” Jehan began counting slowly. R’s rapid breath gradually began to slow, but the tears kept falling from his eyes. Floreal, who had emerged from the bathroom with Bahorel’s call sat next to the musician, softly stroking his hair.

“I just can’t believe this.” R sighed, his shoulders still trembling. Floreal shushed him.

“I know, R… We didn’t know he would be there, I could’ve quite happily gone my whole life never seeing his stupid face again.” Flo crooned, still playing with R’s hair. He knew her words were a lie. 

Enjolras had been a key component in their group, and every member had loved him in their own way. When he had left, everyone had been hurt – but it very nearly destroyed Grantaire. The group had mourned the loss of Enjolras in different ways, but there was no denying everyone had missed the blonde. 

Also, his face wasn’t stupid.

Enjolras had always looked like an angel, with his pale complexion and golden hair but the years had changed him. His face had become more angular, losing the chubby cheeks of youth. His hair was different too – Still blonde, but shorter and slicked back. He had looked incredible, and Grantaire’s heart ached.

“I’ve managed to push these feelings away for so long… How can he still have such power over me?” Grantaire sighed, eagerly accepting the bottle of wine Jehan pushed into his hands.

“You never truly get over your first love.” He murmured poetically, his small hand grabbing Grantaire’s. “Now, we are going to move to the sofa, cuddle, get drunk, watch as many episodes of the Great British Bake Off as it takes to get your mind off of everything.”


	2. Chapter 2

“R!” Enjolras grinned, sticking his hand out of Bahorel’s van and waving at him. Grantaire’s heart fluttered as he saw the blonde, and he jogged over to the van. 

“Mon Ange, you look ravishing.” Grantaire cooed as he climbed into the back of the van with Jehan and Flo, who both greeted him with warm hugs. 

Enjolras laughed, and turned to look at the brunette. He was wearing tight black jeans, his battered black trainers, his favourite leather jacket and a tight white t-shirt that Enjolras knew would be drenched with sweat by the end of their set. “You don’t look bad yourself.” He said appreciatively. 

Bahorel gagged. “God, you would think that three years together would be enough time to get out of the honeymoon phase.” He moaned as he began driving to the bar. Enjolras laughed and reached back to grab R’s hand. He winked at the blonde.

“You’re just jealous since what’s-her-face broke up with you.” Enjolras teased, a sparkle in his eye. 

“Well, if that is the issue… You’re always welcome to join us, Baz.” R winked. Bahorel gagged. Enjolras, Jehan, Flo and R laughed.

As he leaned back in his chair, Enjolras closed his eyes and listened to his best friends bicker and knew that he never wanted his life to change.

XXX

“So…” Courf began, with a frown on his face. “When you were growing up you had a group of super cool, rock star friends who you left to go to university and then neglected to tell us about your secret life, despite the fact you know I have been obsessed with The 1832 since you met me.” He rushed, leaning back in his chair.

Enjolras nodded. “They weren’t famous when I knew them. Well, they were in our hometown but I left just before they got their recording contract. And I didn’t tell anyone because… I don’t know, it just never came up.” Enjolras shrugged, as he fiddled with a loose thread on his jumper. 

Eponine raised an eyebrow. “If you’re going to lie to us, you need to do better than that.” 

Les Amis were currently sprawled in the lounge of Enjolras’ and Combeferre’s flat – Enjolras curled in an armchair with a cup of coffee, Eponine and Feuilly were sitting on one sofa with Courf, Marius and Bossuet on the other. Combeferre sat at the foot of the armchair, his head resting on Enjolras’ legs. 

“I don’t know what to tell you guys.” Enjolras ran a hand through his now-short hair, subconsciously mimicking R’s earlier movement. “I didn’t want to tell anyone.” Courf looked at him with sad eyes, as Marius patted his knee.

“But Enj, it’s a massive part of your life!” Courf whined. “And they are my favo-“

“Courf, Enjolras feels bad enough, he doesn’t need you to guilt him anymore.” Bossuet frowned, noting the tenseness in the blonde’s shoulders. Combeferre hummed in agreement, looking back at the blonde with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Sorry Enj… Does this mean I can’t go to their concert tomorrow?” Courf asked, looking bashful. Enjolras blinked at him.

“Of course you’re still going. I’m coming with you.” He stated as Les Amis gaped at him. “What? I need to talk to them.” 

Combeferre stared at the blonde, noting his resolve, and pulled out his phone. “Well, I’m not letting you go with Courf so I’ll book a ticket too.”

“And me!” Marius called, and soon the room was filled with various shouts of ‘me too’.

XXX

“Okay, I heard what happened and that’s why I’ve let you mope all fucking morning but you need to get up and shower now.” Cosette said unapologetically as she ripped the covers away from Grantaire. He groaned, and glared up at the woman.

When they had to pick a manager, Cosette had been a surprising choice for everyone involved. She was five foot nothing, had the face of a Disney princess, and she was always dressed immaculately. 

So when she approached the band to manage them, she was almost immediately turned away. She had ambushed them in a coffee shop.

“We need someone who’s going to be honest, and keep us organized.” Grantaire had dismissed her, in favour of rolling another joint.

“You want honest? You look like shit and you smell a bit.” She raised an eyebrow and slapped the joint away from Grantaire’s hand. “And you were supposed to meet me at Valjean’s office 30 minutes ago.”

Bahorel had laughed loudly. “No, that meeting isn’t until 11, and now it’s-“

“11:30.” Floreal grimaced, checking her phone.

Grantaire pursed his lips, and did a quick scan of his band mates. “Okay, you’re hired.”

Cosette had been with the band since the start, and they owed her a lot. So regretfully, Grantaire dragged himself into the shower.

When he emerged into the kitchen half an hour later, he felt decidedly more human. Musichetta kissed him gently and pushed a cup of coffee into his hands. “I bought some fresh pastries for breakfast since I didn’t think you would’ve unpacked yet, my love.” 

Grantaire hummed. “Chetta, you are my favourite person ever.” He declared, grinning as various protests echoed around the room. “Listen, I love all of you but Chetta got me pastries and coffee.” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. Joly waved at him from the other side of Chetta, grinning happily as he shoved a croissant in his mouth. Cosette was standing at the head of the kitchen island, looking down at a piece of paper. 

“Now Taire has decided to join us, we can get started. So obviously, the last show of the tour is tonight,” A series of cheers interrupted the blonde. She rolled her eyes, but a smile danced on her lips. “And afterwards, there’s the party in the Corinthe. After that, you have two weeks free. And then, you will be back in the studio… So enjoy your holiday, enjoy being home in Paris but also write me some heartbreaking music.” She concluded. Cosette was stunning, but it was easy to see that she was just as exhausted by this tour than everyone else. “In regards to the show tonight, we need to be at State de France for 4, to do sound check and hair and make up.” Grantaire glanced at the clock, it was already 3:15.

“Guys, I was wondering if we could change up the set tonight.” He asked gingerly, playing with his coffee mug. “I know we’ve kept the same few sets for the majority of the tour but since it’s our last show… I want to do robbers.” 

Jehan and Flo gaped at him, while Cosette, Joly and Chetta shared a wary look. “R, are you sure? You never…” Bahorel trailed off. Robbers wasn’t a song they performed live, Grantaire always said it made him too vulnerable.

R shrugged. “I was struck by inspiration… and nothing can hurt as much as actually seeing him.” 

Cosette nodded slowly. “I will let the tech’s know, but it shouldn’t be a problem.” She quickly got her phone out and started tapping away. The meeting broke up after that, so Grantaire got up, pressed a quick kiss to Cosette’s cheek before going to his balcony to smoke. 

He wasn’t alone for more than two minutes before he felt arms wrap around his waist. He leaned back into Jehan, and passed him his cigarette. He murmured his thanks before taking a drag. 

The men were quiet as they watched Paris rush by around them, and passed the cigarette between them. “How are you?” Jehan asked quietly. “Proper answer, please.”

Grantaire sighed, and leaned into Jehan. “All I can think about is running back over there and holding him and never letting him go again. I miss him so fucking much.”

Jehan was quiet. “I missed him too.” Jehan is one of the best people to have around when upset, the drummer just seemed to know what to say at any situation.

“I want that, but I’m also so mad at him.” R admitted. “How could he do that to us? One minute we’re talking about moving to Paris, the next he dumps me through a letter and I never see him again. Who does that?”

Jehan kisses his cheek gently. “Its okay to be mad, you’re right. What he did was horrible… I think you should try to speak to him though – he can finally explain why he did it, because he must have had a reason.” Grantaire sighs, and grabs Jehan’s hand as they stand in silence. 

He must have lost track of how long they’d been out there, because before he knows it, Joly is sticking his head through the door and telling them they need to head to sound check. 

One more night, and then they have two weeks off.

Two weeks for Grantaire to sort out his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have quite a bit of this story written, so for now I will be posting pretty regularly - probably not every day though as I will be going back to working (from home!) tomorrow!
> 
> Please leave feedback below, as I said - this is my first published work on here so I'm still learning!!!


	3. Chapter 3

Enjolras tugged the edge of his old band t-shirt as they approached the stadium.

Eponine noticed him, and grabbed ahold of his hand. “Hey, you okay?” She asked, bumping her hip against his.

He nodded. His friends were all walking slightly ahead of them, laughing amongst themselves.

“Have you figured out how to get to him yet?” Eponine asked, squeezing his hand.

“Not yet. We’ve got the meet and greet, but I don’t know if that is the best place to talk to him. This conversation is one I would rather have it private.” He bit his lip, frowning. “Knowing them, there will be an after party. They used to have one after most shows, so I don’t know why they would’ve changed now… I just need to work out where the after party is going to be, then I won’t need to go backstage at all.” He says with determination, showing their tickets to the security guard at the front door. 

The group grabbed drinks before making their way to the VIP area. Courf had used work connections to gain tickets in the VIP lounge, which had a private viewing balcony outside. Speaking of Courf, he was practically vibrating with excitement as he and Bossuet posed for pictures on the balcony.

Enjolras exhaled as his eyes swept over the crowd. He knew The 1832 had become popular – he followed them on social media, he watched every video they put up – but seeing an almost sold out State de France made Enjolras’ heart soar.

They had made it…

The crowd screamed with excitement when the lights dimmed, and an upbeat tune started playing.

Musichetta had been supporting The 1832 since their tour began and despite having a very different sound to the band, there were also a lot of similarities.

Musichetta looked as if she belonged in the band – her brown skin contrasted against the white bodysuit she was wearing, and thigh high boots covered her legs. She was an amazing performer, and he understood why the band loved her.

Her set was amazing, and she did an incredible job of getting the crowd excited. Bossuet looked as if he had seen a ghost as her stared at the woman on stage. 

Enjolras made his way back inside to the VIP area. His diet coke had gone far too quickly, and he decided he needed something stronger.

On the table in the VIP lounge, there were numerous complimentary bottles of red wine. Enjolras snorted, knowing full well Grantaire would have requested the wine. Red always had been his favourite.

He helped himself to a glass, and quickly downed half of it. He topped it up before he went back to the balcony where his friends were dancing along to Musichetta.

Quickly, she had finished her set and the crowd was going crazy. Enjolras’ heart filled with pride as the crowd, and his friends, screamed when the lights dimmed again.

The sound of the synth started up and soon Grantaire’s distorted voice filled the stadium. The crowd went wild as the four band members made their way on stage, three of them going to stand on slightly raised podiums towards the back of the stage.

Grantaire made his way to the microphone at the front of the stage. Enjolras swallowed as he looked at the man. The stage was still dark, and there was smoke spilling out from a machine on stage. Despite all of this, he could see Grantaire was dressed in a white dress shirt and a black jacket and trousers that were definitely tailored, judging by how well they fit.

The music changed slowly into one of their well-recognised songs. Enjolras had listened to their album multiple times when it was released and so he was familiar with their songs. He had also been following their tour, and knew they were using the same rotation of set lists. 

"Drink slow to feed the nose, you know he likes to get blown  
Has he got enough money to spend?  
Leave? No, he’s to and fro, he doesn’t like it when the girls go"

Courf was singing and dancing along, spinning Eponine around in a circle. Enjolras took another drag of wine, as he leaned on the railing. He was unable to take his eyes off the brunette as he danced across the stage.

The first song transitioned into another, and the lights flashed – the stage now lit by purple backlights. The crowd went wild. Chocolate had been one of the bands first singles and for good reason.

“Wow… Good evening, Paris!” Grantaire called into the microphone. The crowd roared in response. Enjolras’ stomach lurched as Grantaire grinned. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to say that! Being back in Paris is an incredible feeling… This is where we had our first break; it is our home and so to end our tour here… It’s a dream come true! Despite the fact our tour is ending tonight, we don’t want to focus on the negative… We want to party!” The crowd screamed, eating out of Grantaire’s palm. He had always been good at that, Enjolras mused. “Get ready to dance, Paris!”

The band broke out into the introduction of Girls and Grantaire danced around the stage, his tight suit not leaving much to the imagination. Grantaire took a swig out of his wine glass (red, of course) before singing.

Feuilly leant against Enjolras as the others danced along, a silent question. Are you okay? Enjolras frowned. Feuilly tilted his head. Want to leave? Enjolras shook his head, and returned his gaze to the stage. Floreal looked radiant as she played the piano, and Bahorel masterfully strummed his guitar.

They had never been better. 

Enjolras stoically watched them perform; sighing every time Grantaire spoke into the microphone between songs. He’s nervous, realized Enjolras, he gets chatty when he’s nervous.

And soon it became apparent why. As the last chords of Menswear faded away, Grantaire looked around the crowd. “You know, we have been a band for an incredibly long time. We’ve been The 1832 for 9 years, and before that, we were known as Drive Like I Do and we were doing that for about 4 years. These people, up here on the stage with me… These fucking beautiful people, are my family and they have helped me through so much in my life – the good, the bad and of course, the really really bad. And I can’t really thank them enough.

“And you know, I’m an artist. I cope with the bad times by writing about them, and sometimes, I can’t ever bring myself to relive them – as much as you guys ask for them!” The audience starts muttering quietly. “But sometimes things happen that force you to confront your ghosts, and so here we are. Here is Robbers.” The crowd screamed in surprise as the opening rift to Robbers started. Enjolras froze.

They never played Robbers, an interviewer had asked about it once and Grantaire had simply responded ‘It’s too painful.’ But Enjolras had listened to the album enough that he knew he was right. 

"I'll give him one more time  
We'll give you one more fight  
Said one more lie  
Will I know you"

Enjolras wasn’t stupid, he knew this song was about him and it hurt to watch Grantaire sadly sing into the microphone without being able to comfort him.

XXX

The crowd went wild for Robbers, most of them knowing that it was never performed live. Grantaire drained half of his wine nervously, before charging into the next song.   
Sex had also been about Enjolras but he had written it when they first started dating. Who was he kidding, most of his songs were about Enjolras. 

"And this is how it starts  
You take your shoes off in the back of my van  
My shirt looks so good  
When it's just hanging off your back  
And he said use your hands and my spare time  
We've got one thing in common it's this tongue of mine"

The show went flawlessly, and Grantaire would need to remember to send thank you gifts to anyone who had worked on this tour. They closed the show with Heart Out. As soon as the final chord came to a close, Grantaire was surrounded by his band mates as they bundled him into a hug. They were all laughing and crying with happiness. They waved at the screaming crowd before rushing off stage. 

Cosette was waiting just off the stage, beaming at them. She pulled them all into a hug one by one. “That was incredible, best you’ve ever sounded! And Robbers is trending on twitter too!” She exclaimed, leading them to their dressing room. “Some of the VIP’s messaged regarding the invitation to the green room, but I didn’t think you’d want to wait around here so I just invited them to the after party – that way you may not even have to meet them.”

Grantaire nodded, and helped himself to another glass of red wine. Floreal was already changing into her dress, while Jehan was braiding his hair. Grantaire didn’t care what he looked like; he knew his makeup was probably already smudged from the sweat.

Shortly, Cosette ushered them into the waiting limo to find Joly and Musichetta waiting for them, grinning happily as they clasped hands. 

When they had moved to Paris 8 years ago, the Corinthe had been their second home. They drank there, ate there (and lived to tell the tale) and performed there. There was nowhere else they could’ve had the after party and Grantaire was happy to be back in familiar territory. He felt as if he could finally let himself relax.

Cosette lead them to the roped off area on one side of the dance floor, and gestured to the tray of champagne glasses. After everyone had made speeches, and had a few glasses of free champagne the group started to disperse. Floreal, Bahorel and Cosette went to dance, Jehan and Joly were in a tequila drinking contest and Musichetta had popped to the bathroom. 

The room was beginning to fill now, with other musicians and industry big wigs that Cosette had no doubt invited… But Grantaire was in no mood to network now.

He snuck out of the side door for a smoke, reveling in the peace. He leaned forward and rested his arm and head against the wall. Grantaire hadn’t realized how tiring touring was until he had returned home… All he wanted to do was go home and sleep.

He heard the fire door open again, and sighed. Can’t even get two minutes to myself, he thought in frustration. “Look, I don’t want to be rude but I came out here to be by myself for just a minute so if you could leave me alone, that’d be peachy.” He muttered, not bothering to lift his head and look at the intruder.

“Grantaire…” The brunette’s head snapped up and he locked eyes with Enjolras.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested, I imagine that Musichetta looks like Zendaya and her music is based off of Madison Beer!
> 
> Set list - I've only used songs from their first album (and Milk!)
> 
> The 1975  
> M.O.N.E.Y  
> The City  
> Chocolate  
> Girls  
> Settle Down  
> Menswear  
> Robbers  
> Sex  
> Undo  
> Milk  
> Heart Out
> 
> Drama coming up...

**Author's Note:**

> While I have read so, so many fan works, this is my first time actually publishing anything. Be gentle with me!!
> 
> If you hadn't guessed, The 1832 is based off of The 1975 and will play/write their music - but that is all the similarity!
> 
> This chapter is mainly to set the scene - things will pick up next chapter! 
> 
> Any feedback welcomed :)


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